What a Fantasy, What a Nightmare
by room421
Summary: A drunk Dante, a yaoi fangirl, a needle full of god-knows-what, and a few main guys from the games with a splash of parody and sprinkle of Crack. That is what this fanfic is about.
1. Who Knows What You Could Pickup in a Bar

Disclaimer: I own Devil May Cry 1, 2, and 3 games, a poster of Dante done by an amazing artist that I'll look up for next chapter, and a signed Fanime pass of the voices of Dante and Virgil from the third game. The franchise? Yeah, don't own any of that stuff

It had been a normal start for the night. Wake up, grab a slice from the mini fridge with a beer, then kick his feet up on the desk and wait.

Thankfully, this night brought demonic business and with a flash of silver and flair of red, Dante was out the door.

The job itself was child's play; arrive in alley way A next to dingy bar B and wipeout low level demons C through Z.

But hell, it was something to do.

Luckily, or, with hindsight's 20/20, the worst decision of his life, the owner of the local establishment repaid him with free drinks for the night as payment and he accepted.

After ten beers, twenty shots, and a flirtini (he was by then trying to hit on one of the pin-ups lining the walls) it was nearing three in the morning and, maybe, time to leave.

It was at that moment, when Dante was so close to stumbling out the door, a young women entered.

Noticing the girl was giving him the eye, when really it was the look a predator gets when they have found their pray, he moved in, wrapping an arm around her slender shoulders and grinning like an idiot.

"Hey babe. Whattsya doin' in this fine, uh, place?"

There was a coy smile on her face.

"I've been looking for you sexy buns-I mean Dante."

His grin was even wider now.

"How'd ya know m'name?"

She was nearly giggling now.

"Oh, you don't need to think about that. Just keep smiling and ignore the needle I'm about to poke in your neck."

"Wait….wha-"

There was a sharp prick in his neck and in the time he raised his hand to feel what was there to cause the pain, the girl had gone.

"What just happened?"

He looked around the bar quickly. No one had noticed his whole interaction with the girl.

He shrugged it off, deciding that, yes, it was time to go home and sleep off the hangover that was sure to come with this nights heavy drinking.

If only it was just the hangover he felt when he woke up the next day.

Super short? Yes. Super awesome? Ye-okay, it was fine, maybe even good, but it's really up to you guys. Second chapter? Already written but won't be posted until I write the third chapter.


	2. Swords Are Dangerously Sexual Innuendo

Disclaimer: I just bought the rights to DMC yesterday. That's right, now all you writers owe me money. Ha hah ahahahahahah ha….ha…., yea, um, I own Devil May Cry 4 now, that's it.

Author Chat: Thanks for the review Flipped Out Soldier! You win the "Most Awesome Reader" award. If anyone wants me to up the rating, please tell me and I will. Do NOT report me or my story because I offend unborn children somewhere, please just tell me. Thank you.

The next morning, or really, the next late afternoon, Dante awoke to only a mild head-splitting headache.

There was also a little bug bite on his neck that itched like no other, but that could be easily ignored with a little leftover Chinese food and a few beers.

Or maybe, for once, a glass of water.

By the time he got downstairs to the office, his headache was like jackhammers going off in his brain and he was lucky to stumble to his chair behind the desk.

"That's it. No more drinking….for the rest of the day."

He leaned back, covering his eyes with his arm, blocking out the now too bright dimly lit office.

It was then that a man he thought once dead entered the office.

"…Lady's dad?"

"My name is Arkham."

"But I killed you. Well, Virgil helped, but you're supposed to be dead!"

The man…demon…dead guy just looked at him and brushed a bit of dust from his shoulder with a bored, annoyed look upon his face.

"It was really my _daughter_ that killed me, but anyway, just because you poked me a few times with your sword doesn't mean-"

"DEATH! Slashed and hacked to DEATH!"

Dante didn't know what to do. He had the worst hangover since his first at the tender age of 15 and now with Arkham just staring at him as if he rides the short bus to hell; he now added confused frustration to the annoyance that was his thought process.

"Yes well, if it makes you feel better, I can say I've come back from the dead to take revenge instead of just popping by to take my revenge. Though I guess I should really go see my daughter…"

There was a pause.

A tumbleweed somewhere blew by.

"Oh don't have that confused puppy dog face. I'm here to kill you, now say some lame one-liner and attack."

"Uh, let's fight?"

A slow blink later.

"Yes, let's fight…_you moron_."

"What was that?"

"Oh nothing, young Spawn of Sparta."

"I have a name!"

With a jump and backwards flip, Dante landed by the back wall, ripping Rebellion off and pointed it at Arkham.

"I'm sure your little demon dolphin friends miss you. Let's send you back; canned tune style!"

"Witty as ever I see."

"Shut up and die! Again!"

Dante ran forward, his sword dragging behind him barely above the floor ready to swipe up.

Just as he reached Arkham, the former human gracefully flipped over the half-demon, and then delivered a swift kick to Dante's back, sending him stumbling to the floor.

"Did you grow lax since our fight, boy? Or do you still need your brother's help to fight your battles?"

"Fuck you!"

Dante charged at him, anger flashing in his eyes.

Just as he reached Arkham and brought his sword up for a side slice, the man was gone.

He appeared next to him, leaning in to whisper in Dante's ear.

"Sword not, _big_, enough to reach me?"

Dante's blood was boiling.

He swung his sword wildly to his left, trying to cut the offensive remark and the one who said it in half but again there was only air.

"Still only a boy I see. So easily ruffled."

"Well let's see if your _sword_ is big enough to turn this boy into a man!"

Arkham was about to respond with a witty remake when the meaning of Dante's words truly sunk in.

Dante himself now stared wide-eyed, mouth agape, and his sword slowly lowering to the ground.

"I-I-I don't know why I just-just _said that_. It just kinda, um, you know, came out. I mean, I don't, just, just so lame and, and, and…I'm sooo much smoother than that!"

Arkham raised an eyebrow.

"No! No! I mean, with the ladies! I like girls! I like pus-"

"Don't need to finish that Dante."

He sighed. Fighting this moron was always a strain on his intelligence.

"You said my name…"

"And?"

"I like it when you say my name."

It was then that a small voice in the back of Dante's head told him something was not right. He didn't normally listen to this voice, relying on his gut instead, but now the voice itself knew it couldn't be heard over the roar of testosterone and libido flooding into his brain and in less than three steps, he grabbed Arkham and began to kiss him passionately.

When he pulled away for air, he saw the shock and disbelief in Arkham's eyes.

He then lunged at Dante, pushing him to the ground and seductively started to roam over his chest and neck with his mouth and tongue.

Dante was panting and moaning softly.

Before he could gasp out Arkham's name, the once human's hand was unfastening his belt, undoing the giant buckle.

"Are you ready to feel pleasure like no other, Son of Sparta?"

He could only nod, feeling his cheeks flushing at the thought of what was about to happen.

Arkham slipped his hand down his pants to grip Dante's bulging hard-

"AHHHHHHHHH!"

Dante fell from his chair, limbs flailing around.

He was gasping and sweating now.

"What the hell was that about?!"

He shakily got to his feet and looked around.

His head was still throbbing, but now the bug bite on his neck was slightly oozing with blood.

"Oh goddamn."

He moved to the kitchen, finding a band aid, slowly forgetting about the dream, no nightmare, that plagued his hung-over head.

"I think its time to find a new bar." He mused to himself.

Moving back to the main room, he flopped onto the couch and turned on the TV.

The nightmare was now just an unpleasant feeling in his gut and a slight drop in his mood. But the voice in his head was trying to warn him that something was very, very wrong.

Dante was about to listen, when the doorbell rang.

Yay! Chapter two is posted, chapter three is written, and chapter four is just a few ideas in my head. Hope you enjoyed and please, tell me if the rating needs to go up. There will be a bit more swearing and suggestive themes in the next one.


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